


come what may

by babybastard69



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Because they're gay, Buddy Holly - Freeform, M/M, Not really though, Reddie, Whump, also theyre fifteen in this, and Fifteen, it's set in 1964, mlm, oh god oh fcuk, pennywise is here, sorry monsterfuckers :(, stupid, that's a word right, theres definitely angst, theyre gay and stupid, um
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2020-05-19
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:13:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24265681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babybastard69/pseuds/babybastard69
Summary: richie and eddie love each other, but both of them get in their own way. being gay in 1964 isn't easy, especially if you're the only one in your town, or in maine, or in the world. this wasn't the case for either of them, but after henry bowers beats the shit out of richie, all that fear returns. there is a kind of happy ending though.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Kudos: 7





	come what may

Henry'd found him again. This time, Richie was stupidly taking his time and enjoying the afternoon, saying good-bye to Eds who had just left his side for some doctor’s appointment or something and thought that maybe today everything would be okay. But the second he saw that ratlike face, Richie knew he was fucked. And not in the fun and sexy way, but in the way that definitely involved getting the shit beaten out of him.

"Come here often, ya queer?"

It was the kind of line that sounded pathetic if anyone who wasn't about to- something, said it. Coming from Bowers, though. They were only about a hundred feet from his bike, Richie could almost see it. But nobody could see him- or cared to. Richie felt his mind leave his body as he said, "Not as often as your uncle came inside your mom, you inbred fuck! At least I can read anything harder than picture books!" And with that, he started running. He didn't even notice Henry's hand grasping at his backpack until he got yanked to the ground and hit his head.

Henry towered above him, spit on his shirt.

He said some stuff, but Richie wasn't paying attention. He wasn't fast enough. All he could hear was his heartbeat, his breath speeding up as Henry landed his first kick- knocking any air he had in his chest right out. Henry crouched down to his level, pulling Richie up by his hair and then punching him in the nose so he fell back. Richie felt himself start to tear up and blinked quickly, holding his face as he tried to sit up only to get pushed back down again.

Henry grinned slowly, dangerously.

"You're the reason why I'm on trial- you and your fairy friends. But they ain't here, are they now? You're here. Can't even run away straight, you fucking faggot."

The one thing Richie didn't have a response for.

He tried to scramble to his feet, to get up, anything- Henry wouldn't let up until Richie asked, "Where's everyone else? Are you just gonna beat me till I die?" Henry tried to interject with a nice kick in the stomach, but Richie kept talking on the floor. "I'm sure murdering another person all on your lonesome'll really make the judge believe in your innocence,"

"I'm pretty sure only those Losers you creep around'll care that you're gone," Henry said right before Richie saw black. 

\-----

It was raining. That was the first thing that Richie knew, that it was raining, that he was flat on the ground stuck between softening dirt and water so hard and cold it might as well be ice. The second thing that he figured out was that he was shivering- the rain soaked down to his bones, it felt like, and he could barely see anything since his glasses were nowhere to be found. It was so dark that he probably wouldn't be able to see anything anyway. 

The third thing Richie figured out was that he  _ hurt _ . His head throbbed, his arms could barely move, and when he finally worked up the strength to get up a bit it was to roll on his side and vomit. He coughed. Great, now on top of everything else, his mouth tasted bad. 

And of course nobody'd come for him, either they didn't care or they assumed he'd be fine. And he would be. He would be, he could handle this, it wasn't anything worse than what he already deserved. Plus, it's not like what Bowers said actually meant anything. He called everyone a queer and no one seriously believed him, probably. Hopefully. If anyone important was emotionally receptive enough to actually figure out his secret, it sure as hell wasn't that fuck. 

So.

To sum it up.

Richie felt terrible, too tired to even attempt coming up with some dumbass joke. But he was safe. And he could work with that. Even if he wasn't, he could leave anytime. No law against that. Starting new. He'd miss the hell out of his friends, though. Eddie... he couldn't leave him behind. What would he be without his- anyways. 

The rain didn't seem like it'd let up anytime soon. Richie saw shadows- black on black type stuff. He knew the way home well enough, almost as well as he knew the way to Eddie's room. And Ed's place was closer to school anyway, and Eddie was definitely there with his perfect hair, fidgeting with his asthma inhaler and just so cute, cute  _ cute!  _ that Richie felt himself burst with all those words he'd never say, didn't know how to, didn't really even have. 

Richie Tozier got up and he felt himself start to say something. Not in any Voices, not even the one he used to talk to his friends- a new Voice, maybe. It felt easier on his throat. He couldn't hear it with the storm coming down around Derry, but he didn't need to. Saying anything seriously, especially something serious like this needed a Voice. Not someone to hear it- the dark shadows didn't move save for the trees in the wind. Not the loneliest he'd ever been, and every part of his body still felt terrible with the notable exception of his dick (beep beep, Richie!) because there were some parts of him too dirty for Bowers to touch. So there had to be parts of him that Bowers didn't see, all the sexy, sexy parts- 

Serious. He can't say what he needed to say, he can't say it- he'd whispered nonsense to himself before in times like this. Does he need to say it? He's never said it before- he's said everything but this, told everything but that one truth. Nobody'd hear him. The night was almost soft with some lonely feeling, and shit, he'd forgotten his bike. 

"I'm," (beep beep, Richie!) "Well, I'm," (they'll know your secret, Richie! they all will!) "I," And the next thing he managed to choke out was a sob (beep beep, Richie!). 

(beep beep, Richie!) 

\-----

Derry wasn't the kind of place to have a buncha street lamps. Richie could tell where he was from the dim outlines of houses, and he knew that it was late because only one house had any lights on. The rain continued pouring itself onto him, but even so he found it. Eddie's house. So he could find it, even in the dark and the cold. He stared at it for a couple minutes, not moving from where he stood. 

He walked away. Disturbing Eds wouldn't help anyone. Richie could take care of himself. Besides, he was supposed to be the funny one, and he was too messed up to be funny. Couldn't even see right- he couldn't see at all without his glasses. His other pair was at home, but so were his parents, and joking the situation away wouldn't work. He needed some time to heal before he could face those people, because really, they minded him getting beat up a hell of a lot more than they minded him staying out late or not coming home at all. The bruises on his face felt too real for anyone to see. He wanted to cry. His bones felt hollow and his throat blocked. He could wait that feeling out to talk normally, he'd done it before. Everyone knew the kind of boy who cried like that. The kind of boy who'd rather get kicked in the face than  _ do _ anything with a woman. The kind of boy who wasn't really a boy at all but a modern monstrosity who every good parent knew to not allow in locker rooms or restaurants, who didn't make the joke but did get made fun of.

The kind of boy Richie could never afford to be. He decided to go to the park and sleep on a bench there. People did it all the time and were safe enough in the morning. Who'd take one look at his face and think, 'ah! A rich young man, perfect to rob. Look at that face, he must have tons of money!' He didn't even have cigarettes, would've bought a new pack with Bev but things didn't exactly work out. Good thing the park wasn't far off- he could almost see it. The walk there wasn't so bad- a straight shot, pretty much, but the houses closed over Richie, looming above him, almost grinning with a face that Richie almost remembered. That face- It made him cold, colder than the rain which washed the mud off of his clothes, colder than the thought of marrying a woman or returning home. He walked faster. Colder than the thought of marrying a woman? He was Richie fuckin Tozier! He could marry a woman any day of the week and be perfectly happy- Bev was a woman, after all, and they had some pretty good times together. He could do whatever the hell he wanted! 

Didn't matter what it was he wanted, he could do it. Not cry too loudly, or that would alert the neighbors or lose himself, but he cried. Silently, of course, but still- his chest shook and he wrapped his arms around himself to try and make it stop, or ease it, but his hands were corpse-cold against his torso. He found the park, at least. Richie tried to push his glasses up against his nose, ingeniously forgetting that they weren't there. He grinned. Bullies could take away his dignity, his glasses, his sense of safety- but they'd never, ever make Richie even a tiny bit smarter. Over his dead body. 

He sat on a bench, or on a bench shaped object, and put his head in his hands, still crying. It'd been almost a year since he last cried, and that was from laughing too hard at one of his own jokes. Nothing like this. Then again, when did anything remotely like this ever happen? He curled himself up on the bench and wiped away his tears- not like anyone would notice them with all the raindrops falling onto his face, practically indistinguishable from his grief. He would be okay. Everything still hurt so badly, but the rain let up a bit, and he could almost see a star or two. 

He took a while to fall asleep, and by the time he did he could almost see the sun rise through the clouds. 

\-----

Eddie saw the leper. His room should've been safe enough- between the comics that lined the shelves, his meds and empty medicine bottles everywhere, and the rest of the space covered with all of his junk. That was basically insulation against nightmares. Every so often, though, they managed to slip between the cracks. Eddie couldn't bring himself to move when he saw the leper. It was a different leper than the original one, he knew this, but what he didn't know was what the original leper looked like. That one crept around the back of his mind, never fully revealing Itself. Itself? 

...It wasn't that Eddie didn't remember, it was that he didn't want to. The leper who walked (jangly) into his room now- his face was pockmarked with disease, his nose and hair almost falling off or melting into his floor, his body horribly skinny with bones sticking out, his eyes sunken (they saw horrible things), and his clothes rotting off of him. Eddie could almost smell the... stink of this thing. It made him gag. 

It wasn't that he was paralyzed, but Eddie couldn't bring himself to move. Every time he saw the leper he couldn't move. The fear did it. It stopped his lungs and then it stopped his hands so he couldn't grab his inhaler, and what, like he was going to have his inhaler with him in  _ bed _ ? He didn't have any attacks in bed. When things like this happened, Eddie found that his lungs were fine after, but they shook his mind up a lot. 

The leper walked (limped? hopped?) towards him. It held out Its hand, palm facing the ceiling, and said the same things It always said. Things that no man should say to a kid (or say to a man). And Eddie did what he always did. He took it, trying not to think about what lay... on the leper, waiting for him the second It materialized. What the leper wanted from him too. Yes, Eddie was fifteen now- the Losers stopped hanging out as much, now that they were fifteen -and yes, Eddie had- urges. For things. But he would  _ never _ let this leper (or anyone except) do anything to him. The thing could beg him all night, threaten him even, and that wouldn’t change. 

Since it took the breath from his lungs, Eddie couldn't move. He couldn't run away like when the leper was real and he ran so fast the world blurred around him (but then again, maybe that was him tearing up). The worst part about the leper was that It knew him. Was it him? There was no way in hell Eddie was that sick (that into  _ men _ ), that skinny. Nobody looked at Eddie and saw the leper. Nobody touched him and felt the leper's cool, dead skin, because nobody touched him. The worst thing in the world (if someone touched him and knew what he was) would be if he got sick like the leper, too. 

After the leper left with his sin, Eddie took some vitamins. He knew what they were for, and at least some of it had to be something other than some dumb placebo. His hands shook as he emptied the meds out, and he dropped some. He swallowed them dry. He always did. Eddie turned out the light and went back to bed, and this time, the leper decided not to show up. 

He didn't notice the rustling outside his window. Eddie Kaspbrak assumed that the noise was caused by the rainstorm. 

\-----

After careful thought, Richie decided to go down to the Barrens. He used to go there a lot, he remembered, and the reason why was blurry in his mind, thankfully. He knew it well enough to know that it hurt, that those moments were so happy- but he'd never experience them again. Everyone together like that, so together he could playfully get close to another boy and nobody minded. Nobody cared, or maybe nobody saw, even. That kind of comfort and safety- he didn't know, not really, what he had. Richie had no clue that the absence of love would feel so daily, that it wouldn't go away but sit someplace carefully guarded, gnawing at him with all the words he couldn't even use another Voice to say as a joke. 

Nobody'd disturbed him, thankfully. At least there was that. His clothes were damp and itchy, and he couldn't see for shit! His stomach wouldn't stop fucking growling and his hands shook from hunger and stress- maybe he'd bum a cigarette off some hobo if he didn't stink too much for 'em to handle. Breakfast! Everyone had to have breakfast, especially big Ben who pre _ ferred sev _ eral. Not old Richie, though- he was so thin he could disappear and people would just be like, "What happened to that handsome and hilarious bag of bones over there?" Especially the ladies. God, women! He hated them. Except Bev, obviously. 

So up he went, the Great and Terrible Richie Tozier, who was sore in all the worst and least sexy places to be sore  _ in _ , whose clothes were damp  _ and _ there were still somehow flecks of mud in his hair which was just grand. How would he ever get smooched now? Well, there was only one way to find out, and that would be to... go to Ed's house! Good ol' Eds. 

Maybe if  _ every _ thing was different he'd have a shot. The guy had to realize by now how Richie felt, but if he didn't then Richie was definitely safe. In a place like Derry, being a glasses-wearing geek meant social suicide in the first place, never mind being- whatever else he was. He didn't need to do himself the indignity of actually saying it, enough people did that for him, even if they didn’t actually- Richie got up and started walking, again. The sky hadn't healed from last night judging by all those clouds up there, looking like they were about to burst. Richie cracked his back. 

\-----

Eddie's house wasn't too far off- again, a straight shot. Richie's stomach growled. Would he eat today? He'd hate to end up like Ben, but then again Ben seemed to have more of a chance with his crush than Richie did with his own. Not that he- he did, didn't he? Ugh, fuck that. Then- boom! Eddie's house. Right in front of him, the options that Richie had last night, or last morning. Not like he had a watch on him. Eddie's house, which always looked kinda sad- or 'forlorn' or something. The place looked nothing like Eddie. 

Eddie looked bright- his dark eyes, the way shadows of smiles passed over his face whenever he liked something Richie'd said but tried not to laugh, the way his hair got messed up in the wind and he tried to fix it, the way he wore those shorts so  _ so _ short that Richie couldn't stop staring, couldn't take his eyes off of those legs. Hopefully nobody knew that. Nobody needed to. 

Richie put on a gleaming, slightly stinky smile, and knocked on the door. He heard some faint yelling, probably Eddie's dumb mom yelling at him to get the door so she could watch that rerun of I Love Lucy. Come on, Sonia. It took a second, it usually did. Something about that quiet time standing at Eddie's door quieted Richie's mind. He'd stood outside here before, and he would again. Richie knew the notches on that thing like he knew the scars on his own knees. It creaked open, that old sound-

"Hi," Said Eddie, breathless and cute, cute,  _ cute _ as anything in the world. His expression crumpled, though, when he really saw what Richie looked like. 

"...What happened to you?" Eds muttered, almost- not really allowing himself to say it fully. Richie tried grinning, tried a smile, but it didn't... it didn't land. Even if it did, Eddie'd see right through it. No way could he really smile, even his  _ eyes  _ were sore. Richie figured in that moment, that if he spoke in his own Voice, he’d break down and cry. Again. And his eyes were still sore and bruised to hell. 

He decided to go for 'Dick Johnson, the Fifties Radio Man' Voice he'd been working on. It wasn't good, but boy did it crack Eds up. 

"Hey, bay-bee, you should see the other fella- kicked  _ his  _ teeth to Timbuktu!" 

...Not like Richie knew where 'Timbuktu' was, or if it was a place at all- that was just what those kinds of guys said. He tried to grin again, and Eddie grabbed his arm and pulled him inside, to the only room in the entire house that mattered: Eddie's, obviously. 

Eddie pushed Richie onto his bed, and any other time he would've made some dirty joke, but Richie only looked for the frog- the quilt on Eddie's bed was green, and one time years ago his mom had embroidered a frog on there, so Eddie wouldn't be so lonely. Hey, looking Eddie in the eye'd be like looking into the sun, or an angel. He couldn't bring himself to, and Eddie sat beside him, unable to look away from the punched in nose and black eyes, not at  _ Richie,  _ thankfully. 

Was Eddie pouting? That arm-cross thing was a signature 'Eddie pouting move,' like when he wanted Richie to pay for the ice cream he bought at the soda fountain knowing full well that Richie barely had any money left over from his own disgusting creation. 

All Eddie said was: "Richie..." 

Not like Eddie didn't know who did this. Only one person could really do that, could leave a mark under your skin as well as on it. 

"Richie, do you want to change your clothes? I've got some bread, if you want toast," And Richie nodded, and Eddie shot up, trying to find anything big enough for Richie. The two of them weighed about the same, but even with Eddie's growth spurt, a shirt a bit too small on Eddie became a crop top on Richie, when he raised his arms. 

"Thanks, Eddie Spaghetti. You know, I'm... I." He switched back to the 'Fifties Radio Man' voice. "You're the best I've got, Eds," 

Richie didn't see it- how could he? -but Eddie smiled, really smiled at that, smiled into the shirt he got for Richie, and lingered there in the closet for a moment.

\-----

Richie did mind changing in front of Eddie. It'd been a while since they'd seen each other shirtless, and he'd thought a lot more about things like his body. How it looked. Of course he thought about the way other- the way that girls looked. Again! Numero uno on el list of things Eds didn't need to  _ really  _ know: _ That _ . Second thing Eddie didn't need to know: that ol' Eds seeing Richie not only half naked, but half naked and beaten to hell, half naked and pale and bony- how could a guy like that look at Richie and not feel pity or hate? Pity was the last thing Richie needed, he'd rather shit eggshells than be pitied. Eddie, the stupidest and most adorable person alive, threw him a red shirt despite these facts. 

So obviously he took off his shirt. Richie himself hadn't really seen what the damage looked like, he'd just felt it, and boy oh boy, wonder of wonders, it sure was bad. Bruises bloomed across his stomach, some off-yellow color fading into purples and blues, and a couple on his chest, too. God was he sexy. Richie felt Eddie's eyes on him, how he reached out to touch- the concern, the hate towards the fuck who did this, the way his lips looked so soft in this light, but then again without his glasses everything looked soft and fuzzy. He could get along without them for a while, at least, he'd just squint and still not see anything clearly. Good thing he didn't know how to read in the first place or he'd be in trouble with that  _ Much Ado About Nothing _ assignment. 

And he was almost comfortable with this closeness to Eddie. Nobody was going to barge in on them, ruin this moment- god, the things he'd let that short moron do to him. Not like any of that'd ever happen in a million years, not like Richie's heart could stop for this boy. How did he ever think that Eds of all people pitied him? If anything, he should pity Eddie, since he was so much handsomer and Eddie had to deal with all the problems that came from being short and unbearably adorable. He felt dry, almost, and warm. Even his hands warmed up after coming here, back to humanity. Richie wasn't dirty here- well, both his body and mind were, he really fucking needed to bathe, it was just that this place was safe. The only danger came from if one of them leaned in too close, not like that'd ever happen. 

"Be right back," Richie said. "You're making toast, right?" 

"I wouldn't've offered you toast if we didn't  _ have _ any, genius,"

"Can you make some popcorn too, then? I know you've got popcorn, Eddie Spaghetti,"

Eddie scowled. "I told you not to call me that!"

"Answer my question, bay-bee, and I'll consider stopping,"

"...yes. If you weren't beaten to hell I'd make none, I mean, Jesus Christ!  _ Who _ eats  _ pop _ corn for breakfast! Popcorn isn't even on the food pyramid!"

As usual, Eddie won that argument. Popcorn wasn't a real food just like Jell-O or prepackaged ham slices. It wasn't real food, but by some miracle it was edible and delicious, and he wanted something to crunch on. Munch munch munch. When was the last time he'd had food, two days ago? Richie'd got bagels for himself for today, to have something nice. Reward himself after a fast. Since the bagels were the kind with raisins, they were a healthy enough snack, and he'd only have one. Instead, all this. Eddie'd ruined his plans, yet for some reason Richie smiled mildly down at the floor. Classic Eds, ruining everything like that. 

Richie got up and went to the bathroom. Once he'd finished doing everything he needed to, he rifled around the cabinets. Sonia had a pair of reading glasses that almost perfectly matched his own prescription, they had to be in there somewhere. He searched around for a minute before finding them- Sonia'd always kept cures for things in the bathroom cabinet and these things fit that rule, apparently. Upon putting the damn things on, though, Richie realized something terrible: they were the ugliest glasses he'd seen in his life. Somehow they'd combined wood, metal, sequins, and red-painted plastic into the single most hideous object on planet Earth. They had to be the ugliest thing out there, it was a miracle no one had destroyed them, no ghost haunted them. But he could see. Christ on a cracker, Eddie'd get a laugh out of those. Everything in his line of sight focused, finally, and Richie managed to see himself in the mirror- take a good long look at that face.  _ Obviously  _ the bruises stood out the most on his face, more than the cheekbones that crept jagged out of his skin at fourteen and decided to stay there, or the vaguely punched in look his nose got from being punched in. 

Richie looked at himself and figured out the third most important thing Eddie never needed to find out: one day Richie would die, and whose fault might that be? Richie. He was the biggest nothing to ever exist. He was a black hole who sucked in the joy from his friends, his jokes, and spat out lonely nights where the only one by his side was the radio. Fuck that. Fuck Derry. Fuck the pit his moron brain loved to return to whenever the hell it wanted, and fuck him for wallowing in it so much. So what if he liked men? So what if he was  _ lonely?  _ The kind of lonely that wandered homeless looking into windows of the houses on the nicest part of town, or the kind that was the only boy in the world who wanted something different. If Eddie knew he'd never wear those shorts again, never let Richie move in close and kiss his cheek. "Breakfast's ready!" Eddie screamed.

"Quiet down, darling! Overexerting your  _ delicate  _ voice like that will hurt you!" Sonia screamed back. 

Ugh, Sonia.

Richie left the bathroom to see Eddie's point thoroughly proven: toast and popcorn made a laughably sad breakfast. Well, the two of them could laugh together okay. 

\-----

Richie hadn't used his real Voice in a while- at this point, so many others came to him so easily he didn't need to. Flowed to him like his real Voice did once. He only realized this after breakfast and him and Eds'd cleared the plates, and Sonia said something, told Eddie he needed to go to the pharmacy for a refill. God, did that woman ever get up from her chair? Was she more of a woman or more of a chair at this point? But anyway, the scene was this:

Dust flickered to the countertop, and the only reason why Richie saw it was because of how the light from Eddie's small, pathetic kitchen window caught it; how it floated in space, shimmering for a second before disappearing again. Forever. 

"C'mon Richie, I make your terrible diet choices for breakfast and you can't even dry off your own  _ plate _ ?" Eddie nudged him right in a bruise, and Richie flinched for a second. 

"Couldn't keep your mom dry for more than a second last night, baby!" 

Eddie cringed at that one. "...Just do it. Can't leave the house unless we clean up, apparently leaving too much dirt around gives you a fungal infection." 

Richie sighed and leaned on the counter, rubbing the plate on the edges of his t-shirt. "Can I ask you something?" He dropped the Voice he normally used: his real one was slightly higher, and had a lisp. Kind of. There was a reason he didn't fucking use it anymore, how it made words tremble like they were something delicate.

"If it's about screwing my Mom, you already know the answer's no."

" _ Ay caramba _ , Eddie Spaghetti!"

"So what is it really, then?"

"I- think I wanna stay in your house for a while. Just a few days, till I'm back to being gorgeous, you know?"

Eddie stared at him with that gaze. That look that meant something so important, that ache. Richie stared at those lips, to help himself to something, to hear what Eds was going to say. 

"Okay. I'll see you soon- don't mess up my room or anything," Eddie looked so good it made Richie hurt. Those jeans that fit his legs  _ heartbreakingly _ well... Richie hated Eddie's leaving but loved to watch him go. Actually, fuck that, he didn't. Eddie leaving meant Eddie going to the pharmacy, and that took forever. Forever to avoid Sonia, read some comic books- he was very partial to Wonder Woman, her adventures were always the coolest, and other guys liked her too, kind of. He'd be fine.

\-----

Going to the pharmacy sucked. Not going to the pharmacy also sucked, because whenever Eddie was low on  _ any _ thing he had more asthma attacks from that fear- that he'd really get sick and die, and what was worse was that he'd die in Derry. He couldn't die here, have his disease ridden body laid to rest in the rocky soil. Ew. His shoes getting all that mud on them was bad enough- Richie looked pretty much like a drowned rat when he'd knocked on Eddie's door, though, so he really didn't know what he expected. 

The best part of the pharmacy was the familiarity: the place became a part of him at this point, like a second house or something. Nothing really changed about this place except Greta. She'd been hanging around a lot more recently (wanting something). Over the years, she'd grown to not make fun of him, so why should he care how rich she was? Besides, he was the only Loser she was ever nice to. So... weird. Eddie had to dodge her conversations (invitations) more and more whenever he had to go, but the thing was- he still had to go, no matter how much she looked at him. 

Her eyes on his body made Eddie feel disgusting, like he was paying for some sin. He knew she was there before he even walked in. And once he'd gotten his refills, she pounced. Greta grabbed his arm and walked with him, taking him somewhere he didn't especially want to go. Broadway, maybe? What the hell?

"We need to talk." Greta's tone was ice cold, the coldness that hid behind her eyes, just out of reach. Eddie knew it was there, but not like this. 

"What? What's happening?" 

"We can't do it in public like this." And so Eddie almost knew what was happening by the time they got to her house, sat on her chairs, and ate some apples. She liked apples, apparently. 

"I know what you are, Eddie." She looked at him and Eddie had to get out. 

"The hell do you mean?" His voice trembled. 

"I mean I know why you hang out with that fairy all the time. Why you're so sensitive." 

And the pit in his stomach fell to his feet, but he couldn't get up and walk away, it'd be so easy-he crossed his arms. 

"And? Did you really drag me to your house to call me a-"

"Listen. There's this girl. I- I like her. Like how you like that boy." 

Eddie started to protest since he didn't like any boys, but Greta's hands shook, and she couldn't look at him (she said what he couldn't). He took a bite before responding. 

"That's okay."

"...Thanks, Eddie."

"So, what do you wanna do?"

"Go to the movies with me?"

"Won't your friends make fun of you?"

"Not as bad as if they knew, you know?"

"Yeah." 

"Talk to me after school on Tuesday- I'll be by your bike."

"Okay, um. Thanks. For this." 

And he got up and left. Holy shit (she knew him) he kind of had a girlfriend.

\-----

Eddie crawled through his window, unsticking this poster he'd taped on months ago that barely held onto the glass in the first place. His heart was almost beating out of his chest, his armpits sweat  _ so _ much and he didn't even wear a sweater despite the fact that fall was well under way, which was going to definitely give him a cold or the flu (or kill him even) but he was so warm he'd die anyway. Greta hated Bev, though, so Richie didn't need to know that specific detail till later, since those two might as well be best friends-  _ would _ Richie be best friends with Bev if Eddie was out of the picture?    
The first thing Eddie noticed was that Richie was on the floor. The second thing he figured out was that Richie was sleeping with a comic on his face (adorable), and so Eddie did the only thing he could think of doing. He got a really nice issue of Batman and laid down right next to him ( _ touching him _ , Eddie!) and Eddie saw him in the window for just a second, blink and you miss it- the Leper, the one he’d tried so hard to forget, that original sin of a smile stitched onto a rotting face, and Eddie shoved his hand over his mouth so nobody heard his shriek. All the things he’d wanted to do, but he wouldn’t get to do them, would he? He was going to die with a rock in his stomach sinking down, down, so far down- but he’d float! He’d float, with the dead! His chest would  _ explode _ and worst of all it’d be all his fault, all his fault for wanting something so disgusting and sick no wonder he’d die of it!    
Because- why, It was back, and It knew him. Knew him better than anyone, knew him better than Richie ever could, knew how sick he was, and Eddie (wanted, wanted, he’d already had enough today) needed medicine. Was Richie awake? Eddie found that he didn’t (couldn’t) care, he didn’t, he needed it something else; he stopped paying attention to sound or touch, he  _ needed _ it, a cure- God, he was sick, and It  _ knew _ . What if Richie knew, what if Richie  _ hated _ him because of him, what he couldn’t help wanting, how handsome Richie looked sleeping sprawled on the floor with his curly dumb mop-top hair all messed up and his mouth hanging half open (oh GOD), and It said something different this time, Its voice didn’t talk about ( _ I’d blow you for a dime, Eddie! I’d blow you for  _ free!) what It normally did, something different this time, worse somehow, just a whisper of a voice.    
“ _ He doesn’t even like you, Eds. He’ll hate you if he  _ knew.” And how could Richie not hate him for the thing that he was?

Just like that, It left. It left Eddie shaking, of course, because now nothing was really safe at all and everything had a layer of grime that couldn’t be scrubbed off no matter how hard he tried, his fingernails had dirt underneath them and he couldn’t wash his hands until his hands cracked and bled because the water was dirty and he’d get  _ sepsis _ or a staph infection or something even worse, and Richie stirred, yawning. 

“How do you do,  _ señor _ ?” His grin stretching over bruised lips- lucky that underneath all those bruises, Richie remained. Lucky?    
It knew him better than Richie could. 

“There’s- there’s some things I need to say. I think.” 

“You know I’m all ears, bay-bee. How else could I hear your mother-”

“Richie! This is  _ important _ .” 

“And your new brother isn’t?”

“Jesus fucking Christ. I mean it’s serious.”

“Dead?”

Eddie nodded. 

“Well shit, maybe if you started with that you could’ve averted the crisis of hearing about how I absolutely fuckin railed your mom!”

“Look me in the eyes and tell me you’re physically capable of shutting the fuck up about my mother for  _ one _ goddamn minute.”

Was that tension always in the air, and Eddie just decided against noticing it? Because the way Richie looked at him, even with those dumb glasses (he’s dirty, Eddie) was so good.  _ So _ good. 

“I mean, you’ve got me there,”

And Eddie laughed for a second before straightening his face and saying, “Come on, that was  _ so _ not funny,” 

“If it wasn’t funny, then why’d you crack up?”

“...Shut up, it really is serious.”

“Okay, sure. That heavy, huh.” 

“I don’t think we killed Pennywise.” His voice shook and looking at Richie became impossible. Something in his eyes- in his nose, maybe, clogged up like he had a cold or an asthma attack, and he went on. “In my dreams, you know, I see him- It, and it’s not- it’s Its’ dreamland, not mine. I don’t really- not for long, but he’s  _ there  _ and I can feel him almost reaching for me he’s not DEAD Richie he’s  _ sleeping he’s not dead and we  _ lost-” And he felt Richie grabbing him, holding him so tight with those thin arms that Eddie could break in pieces- he was in pieces, wasn't he? Richie's touch,

so hot (DIRTY) he could almost melt into it (DIRTY DIRTY DIRTY, YOU WERE  _ DIRTY  _ ALL ALONG EDDIE), but Eddie stayed still (HE DOESN'T  _ WANT _ SOMEONE SO DIRTY). And Eddie's breathing quickened, his heart beating so hard and loud it almost popped out of his chest and Richie could feel it and it was  _ dirty. _

"It'll be fine. We almost killed him once, so he's weak now, right? It'll be super easy to take that stinky clown to hell, if we can find It," 

"He talks to me, he can talk to other people, tell them things- that's all he can do I think tell them things but he can tell them  _ everything  _ about me Richie I can't-"

"You'll be okay. I mean, you're so pure- what could ole' Nickelsmart even say about you anyways?" 

"I'm  _ gay _ and he could tell-"

" _ Everyone. _ " And Richie, to his credit, looked terrified. 

\-----

"That's... groovy," Richie said. His hands shook out of nowhere, because even Eddie, the biggest scaredy-cat anyone in Derry knew, found it in himself to say It. He couldn't, the thought of saying anything put a big fat roadblock in his throat, and besides, the wrong people knew anyway. How could he even  _ be  _ a cocksucker if he'd never even looked at anyone else naked in his life? He'd looked away every time he even had the chance. That was the kind of queer he was- too nervous, nothing real about him, and Eddie managed to get everyone thinking  _ he _ was a straight boy, straight as they came, but then again Eddie'd never been caught with a boy from Bangor, hands all over each other in a dirty bathroom stall. What was Isaac even up to these days? 

"I mean, you're still you- more you, I guess, since you decided to say it. And brave as hell, man, I just- I need to go, I think."

Any blood still in Eddie's face left. "You won't tell anyone. I've got a girlfriend anyway, so who do you think they'll believe?"

"Eds,"

"Just go, Richie. I'll be here if you come back." 

So he fell out of Eddie's window and speed-walked through Derry's town center, off to the poorest part of town, wearing clothes that fit him pathetically badly, face bruised to hell, and the ugliest glasses known to man somehow balanced on his maybe broken nose. So, to sum it up: hopefully Bev wouldn't make fun of him too much because of the black eyes. 

He reached her place, started shouting, they walked down to the soda fountain- nothing important, nothing at all, just some good friends smoking and cracking really bad jokes. When they sat down, after Bev judged him for getting a drink that somehow combined three types of soda, two types of ice cream, and a fistful of cherries, Bev had to bring it up:

"Why're you acting like this? I mean, normally if you got beaten to hell we'd sit around the Barrens and be sad, not looking like a- you know, like that, in a public place. In public, I mean," 

"It's important,"

"Course it is, you've been quiet the whole way here. Just tell me what's going on? Please? You seriously can't expect me to go on and on about whichever dumb boy tried to mess with me and then not think I'll listen when some dumb girl tries to mess with you," 

"Yeah, girl," He grinned dryly after looking around the place.

"Is it a girl?" Both of them pretty much whispered now, and Richie knew that Bev knew it was Eddie.

"Come on, that obvious?"

"You're wearing his pants, dumbass,"

"So, you don't mind that- part of me,"

"How could I? Just means we can both talk about dumb boys we somehow like," 

Was that catharsis, that he'd felt right there? Someone really knowing something about him, something terrible, and loving him not in spite of it, but because of it. He could cry- shit, he better not cry, better to make none of it a big deal and  _ move on  _ because that was so much more than he ever imagined hearing. Bev didn't hate him, obviously she physically couldn't since he was just such a great and sexy guy, and she couldn't know that cold that he carried. She didn't need to, she loved him  _ because of it _ .

"Don't talk about Ben like that, Bevvie- he's the smartest guy I know!" Well... knew, since he'd only said 'hi' to the guy for the past few months.

And Bev's face flushed for a second, not exactly as red as her hair but enough for Richie to notice.

"Oh my god, you really like him,"

" _ Shut the fuck up this isn't about me _ ,"

“Okay, so. Say this person told you something deeply personal, right? And you know you wanna be with them, and understand just exactly how they feel, but you ain’t ready to say nothin back to them- but you really like them, and wish you could. What’d you do then?” And maybe what Richie said would’ve been really serious if he hadn’t decided to say all that in a ‘Farmboy Joe’ voice. 

"Well, I'd maybe think about the reasons why I can't say 'I like Eddie' aloud,"

"Don't say that! I-"

Bev laughed. "You do. Christ, no one should find out, but you do. Thanks for telling me, by the way. It's hard figuring you love someone like that."

"When'd you even realize you liked Big Ben?" He grinned. 

"Remember when we were all, like, twelve? I got this postcard one day- not from anyone, super weird. I assumed it was from Bill, I think, because it had this poem on the back, but it wasn't Bill's handwriting. And when I saw the way he looks at me- how could I even try to stop myself?"

\-----

Bev was okay with it, with 'loving' someone as a serious topic, of course she was! Ben lost like 30 pounds so far this year alone, she and him could really be something. Be the kind of something almost everyone saw and liked, or was okay with it, and best of all, Ben had to not be a complete dick about Eddie because Bev accepted it, which meant that it wasn't terrible, at least. 

So he knocked on Eddie's bedroom window, and it took a while before Eddie opened it. Which- fair, after that reaction. But it still hurt. His heart was all, 'Wow! Guess Eds really doesn't like you anymore, huh, Richie?' An argument that made no sense because Eddie always liked Richie, always, no matter what dumb shit he pulled, because Richie was a gorgeous man- drop dead gorgeous, and a bad boy too now that he'd really got roughed up. Pretty much irresistible, even a man who only wanted women looked at him one time and went crazy! And Eds... he had to like Richie, right? Had to had to had to. Even though he'd pretty much run out on him after Eddie said all that and Eddie told him the truth. Eddie deserved all the truths in the world- all the pretty ones at least, pretty like him, handsomer than his grins- and lo and behold! Eds finally decided to open the window, but Richie heard footsteps quickly going off to the other side of his room, so. Talk about mixed signals, huh, right!    
He crawled in, uncomfortable as anything- glasses fell to the ground before he did, tumbling onto Eddie's floor. 

"Eddie," He said. 

"So- um. Did you think about it? What I said, I mean," And Eddie spoke slower than usual, looking down at that rug and fidgeting with his inhaler. It would be incredibly, monumentally stupid for Richie to joke around, maybe use a Voice even, because of how Eddie's hands trembled. 

"Listen here, bay-bee. You're my best friend, and you're gonna have to do a hell of a lot more than like men to make  _ me  _ dislike you. You're amazing and wonderful and I'm so lucky to have you as a friend after all this time. I don't think I have it in me, to hate you. I don't know how anyone could. I mean, it's nice to know that I'm not alone, you know? Not the only guy in Derry who swings that way. So you're not alone either... this doesn't change too much of anything, right?" There were too many voice cracks in that vomit for Richie to realize what he'd done- his mouth raced ahead of his mind again, and before Richie even began to process any of that, Eddie said: 

"So you're  _ gay _ ?" 

"I... yeah," And his throat got all choked up and fuck, was that a cry? Was he seriously fucking crying over something Eddie could just say, just like that? Crying, again, like he hadn't just cried last night, like this wasn't Eddie's moment, and Eddie deserved a moment for himself so much. 

"Are you sure you're not just trying to copy me?"

Richie laughed. "Absolutely not! After your mother refused to screw me, I formally decided to never date another woman again,"

"Beep beep, Richie,"

"Sorry," He wiped the tears off of his cheeks. "It's just so hard being a gorgeous queer man like myself when so many guys are just so ugly,"

"Yeah,  _ who _ allowed the sun to shine on Patrick Hocksetter? He looks like someone put a gallon of vomit in a t-shirt,"

Richie stuck out his tongue and made retching noises.

"Gross, Richie-"

"What's gross is the fact that I've only ever kissed one person!"

"You've kissed somebody? What, like in a Biblical way?!"

"Yeah-  _ a boy _ . It was pretty cool,"

"...Oh, that's how come. Those rumors."

"It was worth it though, you should've seen his face! My god, the guy was gorgeous,"

"Well, I've never kissed anyone, but I also don't have syphilis, so who's the real winner here?"

"Me, clearly. I mean, between the two of us, I'm the only one who's locked lips with anybody,"

"That... could change soon?"

"I- what? How?"

"I think I got a girlfriend,"

"Eds?!"

"Shut up! ...She just asked me out so nobody'd think she liked girls, but I think she meant we'd have to kiss or something to 'prove it' or whatever, and I- my first kiss can't be with a  _ girl _ , that wouldn't count,"

"What're you proposing, doll?" Richie used his very finest 'Radio Man' Voice for that one, seeing as Eddie'd already turned beet red and wouldn't complain as much. 

"Well, would you mind? It wouldn't count as romantic, obviously-" He laughed nervously. "But how it was with you and that boy,  _ Biblical _ ," 

The air in the room suddenly felt ten degrees hotter. Oppressive, forced Richie to lie on the ugly shag carpet, all sprawled out around Eddie. Eddie was home to him: when they talked, he was home. When they hung out or passed notes in Bio or when Eddie was just Eddie, with those dark eyes that shifted in the light and suddenly became more beautiful than they were before, and Richie said:

"You want me to do  _ what?!" _

And Eddie, to his credit, turned redder somehow- redder than a ripe tomato, even. He had the audacity to stay right where he was and ask again, shaking, but not for any reason Richie could see.

"I just asked if you minded helping me out! That-that's it, Rich, you don't have to, I never said you had to-"

"So I'm supposed to believe that, A. You have a girlfriend now for some reason, even though you only like boys, and B. You have lived fifteen long, hard years, and kissed no one? You're  _ gor _ geous, Eds!"

"Don't call me Eds!"

"You just wanna kiss me, doncha? Well, bay-bee, I don't blame you- I'd kiss me too if I could,"

"You think I  _ wanna _ do this? Do you even KNOW the diseases that you get from kissing? Ever heard of  _ mono _ , Richie?!" 

"So, why the hell do you wanna kiss  _ me _ ?!"

"I can't waste it on a girl. I can't keep lying to myself, thinking I'll wake up one morning and I'll be clean, I can't live like this.” 

“When’re you two smooching?”

“Tuesday, I think,”

“I’ll kiss you,” And both of their voices shook like they  _ liked _ each other. Richie was going to- the thought made his entire body burst and tremble like he was diving fifteen feet down into the lake, further than Stan or Bill or even Mike, when he grabbed mud from the bottom that slipped through his hands, surrounded by darkness and a tiny bit scared, even, but it was the same electric feeling, and Eddie had the nerve to sit around reading comics while Richie felt so damn electrified he might as well be a hurricane? Was that how hurricanes worked? 

“So, pardner, you wanna be a namby-pamby half-wit or are you going to kiss me directly on the mouth? I’m all to pieces when it comes to doing that sorta thing with a Belvidere like you,” Somehow Richie’d ended up in Eddie’s lap- to be fair, how else was he supposed to get Eds to put that comic down? Plus, Ed’s reaction was hysterical. 

See, Eddie grinned and said, “I have no idea what the hell you’re talking about,” 

\-----

"I mean," He said, grinning, though his legs shook and Richie knew Eddie felt that, that closeness that only really meant one thing. 

"Are you or are you not going to  _ kiss me already _ ?" 

"Calm down, it's been a while!"

"It's been a while since the self-proclaimed 'handsomest man on Mars' kissed someone? Pathetic,"

"I'm literally only doing this because you've never even been kissed once."

"Wow, rude. I'm about to be kissed right now, unless you continue acting like the biggest moron in human history!"

"Do you seriously want to do this?"

"Yes," And Eddie looked so breathless and handsome that Richie could just about burst with everything he'd ever felt. But he didn't. He put his hands on Eddie's shoulders and said, 

"Fine. Whatever, dude," in his very best 'Benny Beatnik' Voice, and Eddie laughed at that, "Now you've  _ got _ to put your hands on my waist, or else I won't kiss you," 

And Eddie did, all nervous. Every time Richie looked at those hands, he was surprised at how big they were. Like he'd made Eddie so small in his mind, so small he may as well be nothing- if Eddie was nothing, then his yucky attraction to Eddie could be nothing too. The fact was, though, Eddie was so real it made Richie  _ hurt.  _ And Eddie shook underneath him, like trees after a storm, swaying so heavy Richie almost let himself disappear into it. But Ed's eyes- 

fear so cold, eyebrows trying to smooth themselves, and Richie knew that cold. Knew where it came from and what it meant. 

"D'you want to do this? It's- we don't have to, Eds,"

"I need to. I can't say no to her, have people think I'm, you know-"

_ Like you.  _

Richie got the fucking message. 

That he was dirty, just as dirty as he'd thought the whole time- and Eddie knew dirt better than anyone in Derry, knew what it was made of, had looked It in the eye and never even faltered- the bravest boy in the world couldn't even do that for him, couldn't look above his lips and  _ look at him  _ for fucks sake, just holding on so close like they were everything in the world- Ed's perfectly clean fingernails dug into his t-shirt which would've made Richie lean in more any other moment, but this wasn't any other moment, and it was all Richie could do to just stay there, since leaving'd hurt too much. 

"Please, Eds,"

"What, like you want people thinking you swing that way? It's dumb, gets you in trouble, I don't need any of that- maybe if I really do end up moving to New York or something-"

"Do you really wanna wait your whole life for that chance?"

"Depends, Rich. You really wanna kiss me?"

How had their faces become so close? Their noses almost touched, Richie felt Eddie's breath hot-cold on his cheek, those  _ lips _ half open,

Richie's hands on Eddie's neck in Eddie's hair on his face his jaw his shoulder so good he ached for it- but his dumbass face got in the way of making anything too too good- their foreheads bumped, and both of them laughed mildly, before really going in for it again. 

The sea. Cold and rocky and so wet even with a sweater. He'd been there once before and it wasn't like this, it was without love- or without like- just two nerds who had no idea what they were doing and didn't care to learn. Eddie didn't really know what he was doing- his tongue hardly moved at all, so Richie pulled away. And Eddie's face-   
Richie had no clue what it meant. He'd never seen that emotion on Eddie before, so... crumpled. So ruined, and not in a sexy way at all. It was like if someone smashed the 'I just watched my kitten die' face with the 'I just entered heaven' face, and Richie knew both of those well enough. Was he not enough? Obviously he wasn't enough, not for someone so good like Eddie. For starters, he wasn't a girl, or even a good looking boy. Just too gangly, too bony, a real skeleton in the closet. Hah. Richie took his hands off of Eddie's shoulders, that dumb cotton polo t-shirt Eddie always wore, well, one of them, with red and white stripes like some queer candy cane. And  _ Richie  _ was the one beat up because he liked boys? Christ. Finally, Eddie spoke:

"I'm sorry,"

"Sorry? Whatever for?"

"All this? You  _ enjoying _ it-"

"Oh, I figured you were enjoying it plenty," 

" _ Richie! _ " And Eddie flushed bright red and pushed Richie off of his lap, crossing his arms after. 

"What? You know I'm right!"

"I don't  _ want _ you to be right! I don't- ugh! Why did I even have to bring all this up? Is it even  _ legal  _ to kiss a boy like that?! A boy, Richie! Oh, my God!" 

"Jeez, was it that bad?"

" _ How was it that good?  _ I mean, I've never- oh, my God, oh, my God, oh my God oh my god oh my  _ god  _ it was everything. How are you so- everything, all the time? I mean, I may as well just commit to men the rest of my life since one stuck his fucking tongue down my throat, oh my god,"

And as Eds spoke, the words inched closer to Richie deliciously, like he could say everything maybe but one look at Eddie's lips made everything too much all over again. What was there to say, after that? What could Richie think if not endless streams of I love you I love you I love you like his mind had to replay everything a thousand times before anything took root, the way Eddie's hair went oh so slightly out of place, but why would he lean in again? Richie couldn't resist all that, not like Eddie could. He could drift his whole life, cold between women, never working up the nerve to say it- did Eddie even know how lucky he was to talk honestly without end? 

"Oh, my God," Eddie said for the millionth time. 

"So, wanna do it again?" 

Silence (shouldn’t have said that, Trashmouth! Shouldn’t have said anything, should’ve kept your ugly mouth SHUT  _ Eddie doesn’t want you  _ fa _ - _ ) 

“I mean. I need a- I need a snack, I need to think- you’re the only person I’m,” Eddie paused and took a breath. “You want some crackers? I want some crackers, I’m just gonna go. Get some.” 

Richie went with him, of course. All this hurt, and he didn't know which hurt worse- when Eddie kissed him,  _ really  _ kissed him and both of them knew that whatever the hell it was wouldn't last past their, or maybe just Richie's, lingering touches, the looks, the way Eddie's hands trembled when he passed notes to Richie in class. But they'd get killed. Was that much of an overstatement, with how bad Henry'd fucked up Richie's face, fucked up Richie? He couldn't put Eddie, gorgeous as anything, through that. Didn't mean Eddie turning away from him stopped his ugly heart from growing cold and closed off. 

They ate crackers. They were tasteless, and Eddie tasted like cherry cough drops, which definitely wasn't on Richie's top ten list of flavors until that. Richie couldn't look at, couldn't talk to Eddie, so the conversation was stale and bland. The shame of it all stunk through his pores, Eddie smelled it- Eddie knew it as well as Richie,  _ stunk _ the same way, hell, stink lines practically radiated off of the guy. 

"I think I'm gonna sleep in your living room tonight," Richie said after chugging an amount of milk Eddie'd normally shriek at. Something changed tonight, though- they'd get it back one day, maybe. One day soon.

"Good night, Rich," 

\-----

Was it a miracle of nature that Richie’s face still ached? His black eyes hadn’t faded all that much, his body looked like it hurt- the way he moved became slower, more thoughtful, almost. Somehow the guy managed to be as annoying as ever- Eddie woke up Sunday night for a midnight snack to find Richie shoveling frozen peas into his mouth, for Christ’s sake! Who even- 

Richie hadn’t gone to school with him once, though, and that pothead crowd he hung around cornered Eddie asking for him. To give them credit, they did scare the shit out of Eddie even though Bev was there. Eddie’d forgotten how cold a place school was without Richie bothering him at random intervals, how different eating in some forgotten, dusty part of the library was (without any hope of  _ him _ ) without his friend. This lunch, though, Eddie knew what he had to do after he finished his sad tuna sandwich. He strolled out of the library to the science lab. Even though he hadn’t talked to Mike in a while, a long while, he knew where Mike was. All the overachieving nerdy types hung out there, and they didn’t mind the only Black kid in school joining their club- as long as he didn’t become Valedictorian. 

All activity stopped once Eddie, Loser extraordinaire, stepped into the lab. People were talking and eating pizza- they got pizza? Mike wasn’t the center of attention, but he wasn’t as quiet as he’d been back in the Loser’s Club. No wonder he’d joined… whatever the hell this was. Suddenly Eddie felt as though he was in the wrong place, like he needed to leave (like he was being pulled into a black hole). 

“Uh, Mike?” 

And Mike went to Eddie’s side, saying how he’d be right back, getting some weird looks. They walked to the library pretty slowly, catching up on some stuff- Eddie knew what he’d have to say, but not in such a public place. Mike was a nerd, he’d have to accept Eddie, because- well, that was a part of his story. Eddie wouldn’t (couldn’t) tell what happened without telling that part of himself. Mike had to know, if not about Richie- if not for sure about Richie, since so many people almost knew or had some outlandish story about him they only half-believed, then about Eddie himself. And saying it in these walls, surrounded by dusty books nobody ever bothered looking at much less taking-

“I’m sorry for what I’m about to say,” He began, taking a deep breath and making absolutely sure his inhaler was in his pocket (in case his heart went any faster) in case he needed it. Mike, who had somehow become more attractive since the last time Eddie’d seen him, looked like he wanted to be confused. Surprised, even. 

“Pennywise- we didn’t kill him, I keep seeing It, or- or shadows of It or  _ something _ and I know It’s out there, just weak enough so we could really kill It this time,” The words stumbled out almost incoherently. 

“I- what? How do you know, I mean, what happened?”

“The Leper, It keeps- I see it, sometimes, like how It was, but this time It isn’t- It can’t touch me, because It’s just a shadow. I don’t know how to explain it, though… It can still talk to people, tell them whatever It wants them to know, to hear, It  _ knows me _ , we can’t let any more kids die,” 

“Okay, um. Shit.”

“Exactly!”

“Why would Pennywise go after you, specifically? I haven’t really seen any terrifying birds around recently,”

“Probably cause I’m just. So scared, all the time.”

“Sorry, I didn’t think your thing with germs was that bad,”

“No, it’s- um. It is that! I just- I figure you should know, I. Like men. I’m not gonna go after anyone, I’m still the same, I just. Guess he can tell how nervous it can make me, and that could affect how It sees me, so.”

“Oh. Um. Cool! I’ve only ever… read about- men who like men, so I don’t- I might make a mistake, you know,”

“There’s  _ books _ ?!” Eddie hadn’t thought of that before, that someone might bother writing it out. Then again he never had any interest in reading actual books, they were all so boring. 

“I mean, yeah- James Baldwin and Oscar Wilde. They’re pretty good if you don’t mind sad stories. Some of Shakespeare’s sonnets are to men, I think, but I never really liked poetry enough to really look into that. They are awfully sad, though,”

“I- could you get me one, maybe? If you have one- wait. How do you- do you like men?”

“No. Honestly, I’ve never really ‘liked’ anybody. I keep waiting for it to happen- hell, I wouldn’t mind it being a man as long as I knew for sure I was capable of liking somebody like that. I’m just… not, for now.”

“That’s alright, as long as you’ve got good friends,”

“Even better when I’ve got good books,” He grinned.

\-----

Why was it always night? In the evenings when Eddie came home everything seemed worth it, almost. He still ached- his body seemed like an entirely separate entity sometimes, like maybe it wasn’t his and he was only passing through. He sulked around the house, usually, reading and studying- though he’d never admit that -and doing everything to stay out of Sonia’s way. Eddie didn’t need Sonia on his back with everything else. Eddie’d told everyone that he was sick, and this was good enough. Richie’s parents certainly felt Richie was safer being sick in Eddie’s house than their own, since Eddie’s diseases basically meant Sonia was a professional nurse, so  _ their  _ son would be waited on hand and foot.    
_ Their _ son couldn’t get over this boy to the point where all he’d eaten for a while was cherry cough drops. And maybe it was the kind of thing he could be honest about- this. Some part of Richie loved a boy, and it was less escapable than wind or dirt getting on his glasses or the way everyone would eventually find out and the two of them would implode like that ‘black hole’ some crackpot scientists claimed was real, and Richie would fall and fall and fall if only it meant that he’d fall with Eddie through the light, because light got sucked up too- and really, who did these idiots think they were fooling? Nothing could catch light, because light was the fastest thing in the universe, though his heart was a close second any time he thought about Eddie, how it went  _ thump thump thump _ skittering across the floorboards gathering dust waiting anxiously for anything to just fucking happen.   
God, this math homework sucked. 

He  _ wanted _ pot but his face still ached with almost every movement and his idiot eyes still tended to well up every time he tried to talk about it, and that meant talking about what happened, or, hell, thinking too hard about what happened at school’d be even worse. All Richie could do was sit on Eddie’s bed and think about the fact that he finally got a chance with his dream boy- and god, was that a queer thing to think. 

Richie heard footsteps. Light ones. More careful than Sonia’s, he’d been here long enough to recognize the difference. His face cracked into a smirk. But for some reason, some followed those, sounds he almost knew or remembered somewhere in the back of his mind where he’d shoved that summer. Somebody else seeing him- some non-Bev person almost made him curl up under the bed with dust bunnies who looked better than ever now. Suddenly all his faults rushed up to him, the way his cheekbones dully ached and his ribs felt like somebody’d poked needles in them, the way his gross stained t-shirt was, well, gross and stained, and so big on him that it almost completely covered up his boxers. To be fair, fuck pants. He wasn’t exactly going anywhere or prepared to see anybody other than Eds, so it was really this person’s fault. 

The door creaked open so slowly it almost screamed. What if Eddie’d brought Henry home, or him, or  _ It _ , and what if It wasn’t Eddie at all but an imposter and Richie felt all his blood rush to his gut in a way that- though he’d never admit it -felt  _ afraid _ for an awful split-second until he realized that it really was Eddie, and he’d brought along Mike. Mike, the quiet guy who managed to be nerdier than all the rest of them despite his- coloring, and the fact that he lived on a farm or something. Richie never hung with the nerds, so he hadn’t seen Mike in a pretty long while. Mike’d gotten… surprisingly handsome. Not Richie’s type, didn’t look enough like Eddie to be really his type. But damn, what a  _ beefcake _ . Girls must be all over that guy- well, nerdy girls, but girls to be sure. 

“Um,” Richie said, “Did I miss something- when did the three of us ever hang out, like this? Shouldn’t everybody else be here?”

“Probably, I mean. Mike’s here cause we need a guy who knows what’s happening, for research and stuff,”

“Hi,” Mike said. He stood awkwardly, not sure what to do with himself- while Eddie and Richie fit so well they almost blended into the background, Mike popped out like a negative, with his almost fastidiously neatly worn clothes inverted against all the crumpled up neon bullshit as he stepped over dirty clothes to sit in Eddie’s desk-chair. 

“Hey there, handsome,”

“ _ Ri _ chie!” 

“What, like he minds? Mike, do  _ you _ mind if I, out of the kindness of my heart, call you handsome?”

“I- no. I don’t really- Eddie told me about how he liked, you know, then he kissed a girl, but it was weird, so. Do you, you know?” If Mike was any lighter, he’d be red. 

“If a cute guy wanted to maybe  _ do _ things to me, I wouldn’t exactly object,” Richie grinned before thinking, oh no. Exact wrong way to say the exact wrong thing. Mike, though- if Eds trusted him, probably nothing to worry about, right? Mike’s face probably wouldn’t fall with the realization- the horror -that Richie was such an other, that some part of him beckoned towards the same kind of filth that made Eds cry, and Richie felt his body shake and shake and shake with the regret of it all. 

“Cool, yeah. Good… great?!”

“Gee, thanks,” 

Mike gave him a thumbs up. “I support you, Richie. Sorry if I’m not… great, at it, Eddie’s the only. But you’re still Richie, you know?” 

Wow, okay. That went better than expected. Still… life was unfair, and out to get him, because here he was, half naked and still kind of beat to hell, alone in a room with at least one other queer, and they hadn’t even shook hands or anything. 

“Apparently, there’s books and stuff. I never really researched any of that, I just found out from Mike,”

“I mean, Mike, you’re pretty good looking for a nerd. I’d be down to-”

“ _ Richie! _ ” 

Mike coughed. “Just because I don’t like girls doesn’t mean I like boys. I don’t… I mean, not in the way you’re suggesting, I’d be alright holding somebody’s hand. I don’t know,”

“So what, you don’t wanna fuck anybody?” 

At this point, Eddie blushed scarlet and fidgeted in his seat from the raw discomfort of it all. “I don’t see how that’s any of our business,”

“It’s alright, I don’t care. It’s kinda nice to say this stuff without getting judged or anything. I just- I  _ don’t _ , and it’s such an expectation that- I don’t know. That you  _ have _ to fall in love, and do, you know, and if you don’t you’re- you’re broken, and anyways I’d be dead if I liked one of these white girls, so it’s not such a terrible thing.”

“Mike,” As he said this, Eddie talked to his knees, unable to really face anybody else. “If you think you’re broken, that’s just not true. You’re not any more broken than any of the rest of the Losers,”

“Besides, nobody expects nerds to have girlfriends, so you should be safe,”

Eddie glared at Richie as Mike laughed. 

“You can be an honorary queer, if you want. Thinking you’re the only one in the world who’s different can hurt.”

“Yeah, but maybe he doesn’t wanna join the Fag Coalition, Eds, all we do is screw men all day,”

“Right, like you’re not a bigger virgin than me,”

“That’s not fair! You don’t even like sex!”

“Why do you think I’m so sure?”

“I- hold on, what the fuck?  _ You?! _ ”

Mike laughed. “God, no. Never dated anybody, so how could I have?”

“You don’t have to date someone to bang them- I don’t date Ed’s mom-”

“Beep beep, Richie,” Both Eddie and Mike said at the same time, then looked at each other and started laughing. 

“So, are you just here to tell me you’re not interested, or is something going on…?”

“Oh. Right.” Mike went right back to looking horrifically uncomfortable. 

Eddie coughed. “It’s It. I don’t think we killed it the first time, so.”

“Way to kill the fucking  _ mood _ , Eds,”

“Gee, Rich, do you seriously think that it was my  _ choice _ to have this killer clown come back from the fucking dead? Do you think  _ I _ somehow did this?! I don’t want any part of this, I just want It to  _ leave _ . I wanna go somewhere and feel safe, I feel like I’m sinking into the floor, constantly- do you even  _ know _ , Richie, what it’s like to be the thing you’re scared of the most? To know that there will never be a place for you to love, if it can even be called love if it hurts so much, and it does hurt like fire, or frostbite, or something but you keep drawing yourself to it again and again even though you know one day it’ll blow up in your face and  _ every _ body will see you-”

“Eds.” Somehow Richie’d got a hell of a lot closer to him. Not that Eddie was complaining or anything, Richie’s hands on his shoulders felt right, somehow, especially when his lungs moved so fast he became a time bomb set to explode over everything he held dear. 

“You’re not alone, you know,” 

Some kind of gravity inched his face closer to Richie’s. 

“Richie-” He said, holding that ugly T-shirt and squeezing the fabric like that made everything okay, and Richie let him even- and Richie held him like he was the most delicate thing in the world, like Richie’s split lip meant nothing, like the purples coloring his cheekbones-

“Richie,” He breathed, and they crashed together in the most natural way in the world, and Richie held him  _ so _ tightly that, maybe for that moment, the universe stopped for them, the Earth stopped moving as Eddie’s heartbeat fell to a comfortable pace as he held on to Richie like Richie was a rock like Richie was turning to sand before him and Eddie felt himself burn with the desire of it all until Mike coughed. 

“Um, guys?” 

Eddie laughed nervously. “Right, sorry,”

“No, no! It’s fine, I just didn’t realize you two were- going steady?” 

Richie grinned. “We’re not.”

“Sorry. I’ll- go, I think, bye,”

“Neat, see you tomorrow!”

“See you, Eddie,” Mike smiled and walked out of the room very quickly. 

“So. Mike definitely thinks we’re a thing.”

Richie felt his face heat up immediately after saying that. God, blushing like that was supposed to be Ed’s thing, but here  _ he _ was looking like the biggest moron in the world. 

“Yeah, I guess? I-”

“Well, maybe he has a point- wouldn’t it be neat if we really did go out? I mean, obviously we don’t have to or anything, if you don’t want to, I mean. I just- what if we could really  _ be  _ something, you know? We don’t, I just. Maybe something like that’d help with fighting It, since it’s like, an official connection and all. Whatever you’re gonna say, know that I love you, bay-bee, and there’s nothing you can do to change that,” Admitting that made his voice shake- hell, it made his whole being shake, like his hands needed to move to generate the energy he needed to admit to somebody else that he loved them. 

“I think I need some time to gather my thoughts,” Eddie said stiffly. 

“Fuck that- fuck you! Tell me your thoughts right now, asshole, even if they’re looser than your mom last night,”

“That doesn’t even make  _ sense _ !”

“You’re avoiding the question!”

“I don’t know, Richie- that’s the problem, I don’t know  _ any _ thing, and you just want me to, what, pretend like I do? You know, when I kissed her earlier- when she kissed- when we kissed each other, earlier, it was fine. I was fine after, I didn’t need to do all that bullshit with you because that’s how fine I was kissing a girl. It’s all just mechanics, anyways, and it was  _ easy  _ and she said I was  _ good  _ and then we shared a milkshake at the soda fountain and held hands and who cares if her boobs kept getting in the way or if I kept thinking about you… know, how dirty it all is, and besides, isn’t it cheating, does it count as cheating?”

“Why do you care? Don’t you want me?” What they’d done was very clearly not bullshit, or Eddie wouldn’t be taking it so seriously, and implying like kissing Richie wasn’t just mechanics but something more. Which, to be fair, it was- Eddie was everything to him. Everything everything everything, Eddie was good and brave and cute cute cute cute cute cute cute  _ cute  _ except for the simple fact that this had to be what heartache felt like, because everything in him started sinking at that awful, gaping silence. 

“Look at what he did to you. It’s still there, kind of,”

“I’m all right now, I’ll probably go back in a couple days. It doesn’t even really hurt anymore, Eds,”

“Yeah, but look at what happened to you just- with barely any proof of it.”

“First of all! I’m really all right, it wasn’t so bad, and second. Secondly, bay-bee,  _ we’d  _ know and nobody else, no one in the world. I love you too much to do that to you,”

“You love me?!”

“Shit- I wasn’t-”

“What, you didn’t mean it? If you wanna be queer, at least own up to it!”

Richie laughed bitterly. “Oh, that’s really funny coming from you- Mister Wannabe Cassanova, going out on the town and smooching any girl who’ll have you, like you actually wanna go fucking steady with a girl. You own up to it, dammit! You want me to announce it to the whole world, I will, okay? But you’ve gotta announce it to me and you first.”

“Fine. I will. I’ll say what you want me to say.” 

They glared at each other. 

“Okay, say it.”

“Okay! I will say it!”

“So say it, nimrod.” 

“Fine! Yeah! Gee, gimme a minute!”

“Take your fucking time!”

“I’m ready  _ now! _ ”

“Do it!”

“You’re a homo!”

“Wait, what?” 

Both of them started laughing. Then, after an almost-awkward pause, Richie cleared his throat and spoke.

“Gee, did anything happen? A couple days ago you were almost alright with it, and now, I mean, come on! Look at us, we’d make a  _ gor _ geous couple, dahling,”

“Oh my god, shut up,”

“Make me, Eds,” He winked as Eddie rolled his eyes. A moment later, when they came up for air, Richie almost gasped. 

“Wow,” He said- he almost breathed it out. 

“What?”

“I just didn’t expect that to actually work- I wasn’t being serious or anything, because you hate queers all of a sudden, like we’re not the same,”

“We’re not the same, though,”

“Whaddya mean, Ederoni and cheese?” Even Eddie had to admit that that Voice was eerily similar to Bugs Bunny, and though Richie really hadn’t meant for it to come out like that- then again, when had he ever said anything he really meant- or, come to think of it, said  _ any _ thing at all that didn’t blow up in his face, especially not that, because even by Richie’s standards that was just awful. God, he really said that? And Eddie really decided to still be his friend? What a saint. 

“Okay, um. Never say that again,”

“Yeah. Don’t worry, that was-”

“Yeah,” Eddie paused. His room felt almost unbearable. Whatever slipped through the cracks- well, It, the feeling of It returned with a vengeance, and his lungs stopped working. He tried to breathe in but he choked on the air, how it felt stagnant and thickly warm in his throat, like-    
He had to leave. 

“Richie,” He said, after a pause that could’ve been awkward if it hadn’t lasted for five minutes, and if Richie hadn’t started reading a comic like he had no cares in the world, no thoughts at all, no sins- which was an absurd thought, because Richie went out of his way to do awful things pretty much every day, but some part of Richie still managed to be purer, somehow, than anything that moron tried to turn himself into. How could that be? Eddie looked at his face, trying to be objective, how that black eye was somehow yellowish now, how it faded from purple to yellow, this sickly color like old paper or candle wax, and Eddie wanted to scream at it because he knew how much worse Richie looked everywhere else, and Eddie could hardly take it. 

“Think you’ll go back anytime soon?” 

“What, to school?” Richie laughed. “I’d rather stay as far away from that place as possible. At least till after test day.” He paused. “I could kind of use some of that outside air though- Whaddaya say, wanna go to the Barrens? C’mon, c’mon-”

“I’ll  _ go _ if you stop talking like that,”

“Ey, you got somethin’ against New York Timbo?” 

“Yes! I feel like I should arrest you for doing that! Now- that voice, that  _ voice _ ! It should be considered a war crime!” 

“If that’s a crime, then arrest me, bay-bee,” Richie winked. Eddie groaned. 

“...Are we going or not?”

“Yeah, come on- wait, wanna go to the pond or something?”

Eddie opened the window and crawled out of it. Richie didn’t even try to stop looking at the guy as he fell onto the grass and scooted away from the window so Richie could fall too. And he fell too- admittedly a bit harder than Eddie, but maybe that was just the bruises. His glasses fell somewhere in the grass and Eddie found them easily, putting them in Richie’s hand. Everything in his line of vision was so soft and mixed up that he had no clue how softly Eddie was looking at him, till he put the things on and Eddie looked away. 

Eddie coughed into his elbow and crossed his arms. “Please, for the love of everything good in this world, stop doing those voices.”

“Ugh. You’re lucky I like you so much,  _ Eds _ ,” Richie fake-glared at Eddie as they set off into the Barrens. He didn’t even notice how close they stood to each other as soon as they got out of sight. That’d be owed to the fact that any paths in the Barrens were pretty narrow, and both of them refused to walk behind the other. 

They hadn’t talked for a couple of minutes, almost enjoying each others’ company, but something felt horribly off to Richie. So, he decided to do what he always did:

“I’d like to hold your hand, you know,” 

Dear god. Why did that, of all things come out? No joke was worse than that.

“No you don’t,” Eddie said fast, faster than usual, and Richie was so busy staring into the nearest bush that he didn’t notice how red Eddie’s face suddenly became. “First of all, that’s pretty fucking bold- especially out here, where someone could see us!” 

Eddie coughed for a second, waiting for Richie to do some wacky bullshit, but Richie continued looking very intensely away, and being quiet way out in the Barrens felt dangerous, somehow. More dangerous than anything in the moment, though Eddie’s rational brain knew that what they were about to do was so insanely dangerous he may as well sign up for life insurance, because a thousand things could go wrong if he did what he wanted to- not the immediate thing that he didn’t even- his hands were clammy pretty much all the time, and he was about to say this when Richie finally returned to normal, saying:

“ _ Firstly _ , the only person looking at you is me- but it’s fine if you don’t want to, it really is, baby, I’m so hot that the last fella to touch me got sent to the hospital. First degree burns, it was  _ so _ tragic,” 

Eddie stopped himself from saying that first degree burns weren’t bad enough to send anybody to the hospital, actually, and figured that any disease he could potentially get from doing what he was about to do could be easily explained away if it didn’t kill the both of them. He stopped walking, which made Richie stop walking, and Eddie held out his hand, cursing himself inside. 

“Um,” Richie said, staring at Eddie’s hand as Eddie tried to keep it from shaking, “What?” 

“You said you wanted to hold it. I had no idea Trashmouth was a coward,” Eddie tried to grin. 

Richie went silent and grabbed Eddie’s other hand. 

“You’re lucky you’re so handsome since your brains clearly get you nowhere,” 

“What, like I haven’t won every single argument we’ve ever had?” 

“I might be dumber, but I am handsomer,” He winked as Eddie rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, you look like a drowned rat.”

“That’s worse for you, Eds! You’re the one who decided to be attracted to me!”

“I’m not!”

“So stop holding my hand!

“No! You’re just terrible, you know that? It’s important to me that you know that,” 

“I’m great. I’m the best. I’m so hot and great that you, sir, have been into me since we were what, eleven?” 

“I- well. I mean. Things were easier back then. I had no idea what it was, I just knew it wasn’t something normal, like what Bill and Mike had, the day music died.”

“That was ages ago! How do you even remember that with all the disease facts you keep between your ears?”

“It’s the only time I ever saw you cry. You didn’t even make that many Ritchie Valens puns,”

“Even though the opportunity was right there,”

“It really was! Your glasses kinda look like what’s his name, too,”

“Buddy Holly?”

“Him, yeah.”

They walked in silence for a minute, the comfortable kind where Richie still didn’t shut up even though he didn’t speak. He kept squeezing Eddie’s hands, and Eddie stared at him, and Eddie could almost see the waterfall. 

“Do you think we’ll be okay?” 

“I do, you know. I love you.”

// fin. 

**Author's Note:**

> this is the first thing i've ever written and finished and felt kind of proud of, even if it's only decent. if you're reading this, thank you,,, it really means a lot. stay safe homos


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